MR. KENYON'S CHANGE OF BASE.
"Good-morning, Oliver," he said pleasantly, when our hero entered the
room.
"Good-morning, sir," returned Oliver in surprise.
"We missed you at supper last evening," continued the step-father.
"Yes, sir; I took supper at Dr. Dudley's," explained Oliver, not quite
certain whether this would be considered satisfactory.
"Dr. Dudley is a very worthy man," said Mr. Kenyon. "His son is about
your age, is he not?"
"Yes, sir."
"He has a daughter, also--rather a pretty girl."
"I believe Roland thinks so," said Oliver, glancing at his
step-brother.
"Roland has taste, then," said Mr. Kenyon. "You two boys mustn't
quarrel about the young lady."
"I shan't quarrel," said Roland stiffly. "There are plenty other girls
in this world."
"You are a philosopher, I see," said his father.
Roland felt that this had gone far enough. Why should his father talk
pleasantly to Oliver, who had defied his authority the day before? If
this went on, Oliver would be encouraged in his insubordination. He
felt that it was necessary to revive the subject.
"I expect my ball is lost," he said in an aggrieved tone.
"What ball?" asked his father.
"The ball I batted out into the road yesterday afternoon."
"Probably someone has picked it up," said Mr. Kenyon, proceeding to
open an egg.
Roland was provoked at his father's coolness and unconcern.
"If Oliver had picked it up for me it would not have been lost," he
continued, with a scowl at our hero.
"If you had picked it up yourself, wouldn't it have answered the same
purpose?"
Roland stared at his father in anger and dismay. Could he really mean
it? Had he been won over to Oliver's side? Oliver, too, was surprised.
He began to entertain a much more favorable opinion of his step-father.
"Didn't you tell Oliver to pick it up yesterday afternoon?" demanded
Roland, making a charge upon his father.
"Yes, I believe I did."
"Well, he didn't do it."
"He was wrong, then," said Mr. Kenyon mildly. "He should have respected
my authority."
"I'll go and look for it directly breakfast is over," said Oliver,
quite won over by Mr. Kenyon's mildness.
"It wouldn't be any use," said Roland. "I've been looking for it myself
this morning, and it isn't there."
"Of course, it wouldn't stay there all night," said Mr. Kenyon. "It
has, no doubt, been picked up."
"Aint you going to punish Oliver for disobeying you?" burst out the
disappointed Roland.
Oliver turned to his step-father with interest to hear his answer.
"No, Roland. On second thought, I don't think it was his place to go
for the ball. You should have gone after it yourself."
Oliver smiled to himself with secret satisfaction. He had never thought
so well of his step-father before. He even felt better disposed toward
Roland.
"Why didn't you ask me politely, Roland?" he said. "Then we should have
saved all this trouble."
"Because I am older than you, and you ought to obey me."
"I can't agree with you there," said Oliver composedly.
"Come, boys, I can't allow any quarrelling at the table," said Mr.
Kenyon, but still pleasantly. "I don't see why we can't live together
in peace and quietness."
"If he will only be like that all the time," thought Oliver, "there
will be some pleasure in living with him. I am only afraid it won't
last. What a difference there is between his manner to-day and
yesterday."
Oliver was destined to be still more astonished when breakfast was over.
He had known for some time that Roland was better supplied with money
than himself. In fact, he had been pinched for the want of a little
ready money more than once, and whenever he applied to Mr. Kenyon, he
was either refused or the favor was grudgingly accorded. To-day, as he
rose from the table, Mr. Kenyon asked:
"How are you off for pocket-money, Oliver?"
"I have twenty-five cents in my pocket," said Oliver with a smile.
"Then it is about time for a new supply?"
"If you please, sir."
Mr. Kenyon took a five-dollar bill from his pocket, and passed it over
to our hero.
"Thank you, sir," said Oliver, with mingled surprise and gratitude.
"How much did you give him?" asked Roland crossly.
"The same that I give you, my son;" and Mr. Kenyon produced another
bill.
Roland took the bill discontentedly. He was not satisfied to receive no
more than Oliver.
"I think," he said to our hero, "you ought to buy me a new ball out of
your money."
Oliver did not reply, but looked toward Mr. Kenyon.
"I will buy you a new ball myself," he said. "There is no call for
Oliver to buy one, unless he wants one for his own use."
"If you will excuse me, sir," said Oliver respectfully, "I will get
ready to go to school."
"Certainly, Oliver."
Roland and his father were left alone.
"It seems to me you've taken a great fancy to Oliver all at once," said
Roland.
"What makes you think so?"
"You take his part against me. Didn't you tell him yesterday to go
after my ball?"
"Yes."
"To-day you blame me for not going myself. You reward him for his
impudence besides by giving him five dollars."
Mr. Kenyon smiled.
"So my conduct puzzles you, does it?" he inquired complacently.
"Yes, it does. I should think Oliver was your son instead of me."
"Have I not treated you as well as Oliver?"
"I think you ought to treat me better, considering I am your own son,"
grumbled Roland.
"I have good reasons for my conduct," said Mr. Kenyon mysteriously.
"What are they?"
"You are a boy, and it is not fitting I should tell you everything."
"You aint afraid of Oliver, are you?" demanded Roland bluntly.
Mr. Kenyon smiled pleasantly, showing a set of very white teeth as he
did so.
"Really, that is amusing," he answered. "What on earth should make me
afraid of Oliver?"
"I don't see what other reason you can have for backing down as you
have."
"Listen, Roland. There is more than one way of arriving at a result,
but there is always one way that is wiser than any other. Now it
would not be wise for me to treat Oliver in such a way as to create
unfavorable comment in the village."
"What do you care for what people in the village think?" asked Roland
bluntly. "Haven't you got the money?"
"Yes."
"And Oliver hasn't a cent?"
"He has nothing except what I choose to give him."
"Good!" said Roland with satisfaction. "I hope you don't mean to give
him as much as you do me," he added.
"Not in the end. Just at present I may."
"I don't see why you should."
"Then you must be content to take my word for it, and trust to my
judgment. In the end you may be assured that I shall look out for your
interests, and that you will be far better off than Oliver."
With this promise Roland was measurably satisfied. The thing that
troubled him was that Oliver seemed to have triumphed over him in
their recent little difference. Perhaps, could he have fathomed his
step-father's secret designs respecting Oliver, he would have felt less
dissatisfied. Mr. Kenyon was never more to be dreaded than when he
professed to be friendly.